In Words
by shyvioletgirl
Summary: While using Molly's flat as a bolthole Sherlock comes across some letters that Molly wrote him in the two years he was gone. Of course he can't resist reading them, but what will he learn?


**In Words**

I pull the key out of my pocket knowing that using the front door would be preferable to the bedroom window in the middle of the day. Molly's apartment should be empty (other than Toby) since she's scheduled for the day shift this week. I like spending time in Molly's apartment especially when it's empty. After letting myself in I head to her bedroom to lay down. I don't quite know why Molly lets me take over her home the way she does, but I do appreciate it. I try to only use it when I know she's not here, but there are days when I enjoy her company over my other _friends_.

As I lie there trying to sort through the events of the day I find I can't concentrate. Something is out of place, or she's changed something because the continuity of the room is off. I look around the room trying to find the problem so I can go back to thinking in silence. I finally find the offending object sticking out of her closet. It's a wooden box, about the size of an old cigar box. I know I shouldn't but my curiosity wins out and I open it.

It seems to hold an assortment of mementos, most of which seem to be letters if the amount of envelopes is any indication. Molly always has been sentimental, but what surprises me is that the handwriting on all of the envelopes is hers. The more perplexing bit is that each of the envelopes is addressed to me. As I pick one up with the intent to open it I can hear John's voice in the back of my head telling me this is, "not good." However, addressing them to me is like giving me permission to read them since they seem to be mine.

 _Dearest Sherlock,_

 _You_ _'_ _ve been gone for a year now and I still don_ _'_ _t know why I keep writing these letters to you. Some days are harder than others to remember that you_ _'_ _re not really dead. I hope wherever you are that you_ _'_ _re safe. That_ _'_ _s really all I could ever ask for._

 _Nothing is the same without you. Every time someone opens the door to the lab I always look up hoping it_ _'_ _s you. I don_ _'_ _t know if that_ _'_ _s because I know you_ _'_ _re alive and I_ _'_ _m hoping that you_ _'_ _re just going to show up one day like nothing ever happened, or if your presence haunts me. There are some days when I walk in I expect you to be running one of your experiments or looking at something under the microscope, but of course it_ _'_ _s all in my head._

I put the letter down even though her words continue to fill the page. I know I will pick it up again and finish reading. I'll likely read the entire box. Right now, however, I'm wondering if this is how she was able to keep my secret. Was writing letters that were never going to be sent her way of coping with the weight I placed on her shoulders?

 _Do you ever wonder if things could have gone differently? Sometimes I try to come up with different outcomes for what we did. I hate not being able to tell John that you are actually alive and (hopefully) well. He's been doing better since he started seeing one of the nurses at the surgery where he's working these days. I think her name is Mary, but I've only gotten the chance to meet her once. He seems happy, but we've all kind of fallen apart since your 'death.' I still see Greg Lestrade on a regular basis, but it's not the same when you're not rushing in to save the day and turn all our world upside-down._

 _A few of my friends from work have been urging me to go out with them to the pub this weekend, but I don't know if I'm up to it. I've never really been that kind of girl. Well, I guess you know that already. Sometimes I think it might be nice if I could be a regular sort of person, but it always seems that every time I try to be the type of person who does regular things like go to the pub with a bunch of girlfriends everything turns out wrong. I'm not exactly sure what sort of person I really am at all._

 _Well, Sherlock, wherever you are right now I hope that you are safe. I also hope that you will be finding your way back to us all soon. I'd like to think that you're thinking of us, but I'm sure you have more important things on your mind than your old acquaintances._

 _With Love,_

 _Molly_

How can she believe that I would not be thinking about her? I thought that telling her that she counted and that I needed her would be a sufficient bit of sentiment to get her through our time apart. Granted she never has had the best self-esteem, and I was always an arse when it came to Molly. It's only now that I can admit to myself why I treated her so horribly.

When I look up at the clock on Molly's bedside table I find I've been sitting there with the letters longer than I thought. Surely Molly will be home soon, and I cannot have her finding me with this box of treasures. I carefully pack the box back up before slipping it beneath my coat and heading back out the door. I will head back to Baker Street where I can read more of the letters and contemplate their effect on my heart.

* * *

 _Dearest Sherlock,_

 _Have I ever told you when it was I found myself in love with you? Of course I didn't, because that would have meant I actually admitted that I loved you out loud. I'm sure that you've always known how I felt and maybe you even knew the moment that it all changed for me._

 _I always loved the days that you found your way into my morgue. I was quite a bit like John when you first met him, I found your ability to see things no one else fascinating. One day I realized that you hadn't been in the morgue or lab for a few days and that I missed your presence there. After that I tried my hardest to find ways to show you that I cared. Of course then there was the fateful day I finally worked up the courage and tried asking you on a coffee date._

 _I'm not sure it ever even occurred to you that I was asking you out, or maybe you thought if you feigned ignorance you would be letting me down easily. I can't even imagine how your mind works. I'd say I'm not going to mention that horrible Christmas, but we can't talk about our 'relationship' without it. While your words did hurt it wasn't so unexpected. What hurt the most was that everyone else in the room knew I was in love with you. It was the looks f pity on their faces that really hurt me that night._

 _You're probably wondering why I'm bring up all of these memories of you being oblivious to my very obvious feelings for you. I'm trying very hard to move on now that you're gone and I don't know if you'll ever be returning Well, I finally broke down and accepted an invitation to the pub, and I actually met someone. He's quite normal, in face he's quite boring. I don't know if our relationship will go anywhere, but I have to start somewhere._

 _I know that even though I am trying to move on and finally have a life outside of the morgue and my feelings for a 'dead detective' I know that you will always be in the back of my mind and in my heart. I'm not sure that I can ever truly get over you because you captured my heart in a way that no one else ever could. But I want to find some semblance of love, it may not be the love I've always dreamed of, but at least it will be something._

 _With Love,_

 _Molly_

I'm guessing that this was written after she met Tom since I know Molly finding anyone who adored her would make her happy in a way I never could. Hell, not having me there to scare off her dates was probably one of the best things to ever happen to her. When I returned from the dead I had fully intended on telling Molly that my feelings for her had changed in my absence, but I couldn't get in the way of the happiness she had found with Tom. I made quite the effort in not pointing out all of his flaws. I don't know if Molly truly understands how difficult it was for me not to rip him to pieces. I wanted her happiness, and couldn't take it away from no matter how badly I wanted that happiness to be with me.

However, even now that Tom is out of the picture I find that I can't tell her what she has come to mean to me. I know that I have angered her with my drug use, fake engagement, nearly dying and of course, and let's not forget that I killed Magnussen. Maybe angered isn't the right word. I think horribly disappointed would be more apt description. She hasn't cut me out of her life like she really should, but she has definitely learned how to stand up to me.

I have been going through the letters for most of the day and have been separating them into two piles. The ones that are boring, and the ones I find I want to read again. Then there's one letter that I have sitting off to the side because I'm afraid to open it. You'd think it would take more than a letter to scare me, but I know that the letter in question was written recently. In fact I'm sure it was written yesterday and that's why the box was sitting on the floor of her closet for me to find. I know I can't put off reading it forever, as my curiosity is too great to ever let it sit unopened.

* * *

 _Dearest Sherlock,_

 _I don't know why I'm still writing these letters since you've been back for over a year. It's been a crazy year at that, I don't even know how to describe it. Just when I thought I could move on with my life you come home and turn it completely upside-down in more ways than I can count._

 _I don't even know how to begin to explain why I decided to write this letter. It's just insane how much can change in a year. When you came home I knew that it was only a matter of time before my engagement ended. There could never be anyone else for me but you. I don't know why I tried so hard to make you believe I was happy with Tom when he could never compare to you. Even when you're making me feel horrible about myself at least you make me feel._

 _I thought I could learn to love Tom, but even after a year of being together I never felt anything more than a strange affection for him. You on the other hand make me feel so much and I can't even put into words what that is. When I first called off my engagement I wanted to blame you, but really I should be thanking you for saving me from the boring life I would have had. Even though I've learned to accept that I will only ever have you in my life in a professional capacity, you make my life exciting and worth more._

 _I'm still upset with you that you felt the need to go back to drugs for a case; that you didn't think to ask me for help in whatever you were trying to accomplish. I want you to know that you're forgiven. I forgave you the moment you let me slap you, and I know that you did let me. Thank you for that too. I hope you realize that you did deserve them._

 _I guess you hurt me with more than the drugs, but I think that they hurt the most. I'm sure I could go on and on about all of the mistakes you made this year, but I don't think you want or need me to remind you of them all. Just know they were painful for all of your friends._

 _I don't know where our relationship stands these days as so much has changed. We're both very different people than we were when we met all those years ago. We're different than we were when we faked your death and we've changed so much even just in the year since your return. Just know that despite all of the many changes in our lives and through all the pain there has been one constant. You still hold my heart._

 _I've come to the conclusion that I will never be able to get over you and no matter what you do I will always find it in my heart to forgive you. I don't know what that says about me other than I must not be as smart as I always thought I was. I don't know what it is about you, but I do know that I cannot seem to stop myself from loving you. Maybe I'll actually be able to tell you some day, but for now I'll write the words here and give myself some semblance of peace. Maybe one day you'll find a place in your heart for me too, but even if you don't I know that my life is infinitely better for having you as my friend._

 _With Love Always,_

 _Molly_

I find that I can't put down the letter now that I've read it. When I set it aside I was sure that she would be writing that she wanted me out of her life. I could only see the hurt that I have caused her over the years and pain I feel I continue to cause her. She's right that we're not the same people we once were, but I don't think she realizes the extent that I've grown over the years. I don't even think she knows that she's the reason for most of those changes. I'm sure she attributes any changes in my life to John, and she would be completely wrong.

I don't know where to go from here because this is all new territory for me. I've never done romantic relationships, at least not real romantic relationships. I'm not even sure if I'm capable of a normal connection with this woman I've come to love. Everything about me is impetuous and unforgiving, yet she is effervescent and forgives all too easily. If I wanted it could I actually make a relationship with Molly work?

I don't know how long I've been sitting there with Molly's final letter still clutched in my hand before I realize John is there watching me a cup of tea in hand. I know he can tell the moment I comprehend his presence in the flat, but still he doesn't say anything about the mess of letters strewn about the room, he just takes me in searching for clues as to my state of mind.

"Is this for a case?" he finally asked a few minutes later.

"Not exactly," I said looking away from his piercing gaze.

"By any chance is that Molly Hooper's handwriting?" he inquired with a smirk.

"Obviously," I snapped.

"And by any chance were these given to you or did they happen to walk away from her flat on one of your visit?"

"The latter."

"I thought so. Do you think that was a smart idea Sherlock?" he inquired, and I could almost hear the "not good" that he probably planned to attach on somewhere later in the conversation.

"Well, technically they're addressed to me," I explained in hopes that this will quell any further investigation into the subject. And of course I was wrong.

"But she didn't give them to you."

"She'll be right mad at me when she finds out. Is that what you want to hear me say? That I know I shouldn't have taken them, but did anyway?" I know I shouldn't be shouting at him as he is only trying to help or possibly understand, but I hate when he points out that I've done something horrible to Molly yet again.

"It's definitely an improvement over making excuses to justify the action. So, did you learn anything you didn't already know about your Pathologist?"

"Yes and no."

"That's a very un-Sherlock answer. Anything I can help with?"

"Why does she always forgive me? What is it she sees that no one else can?" I question, and find I really am curious to what the answer could be.

"I have no idea."

"Me either. It's vexing"

"Maybe you should ask her."

"Oh, yes, that sounds like a lovely idea. 'Hey Molly, I was just wondering why you seem so enamored with me since everyone knows I'm an insensitive arse?'"

"It was just a suggestion. And I do know you know how to be civil when you want to be. Is this all because you fancy her as well?"

"What are you going on about John?" I tried to feign ignorance, but I know he's not falling for it.

"I asked if you have feelings for Molly?"

"I'm not sure that's something I want to discuss with you."

"And there's the answer to my question. Sherlock, you're never going to find someone else who will put up with you who also seems to love you, so maybe you should tell her."

"I'll think about it."

"Well, I'll leave you to your thinking then."

* * *

I found myself walking into the morgue on Molly's next shift, the box of letters and mementos under my arm. It was time to grovel and hope she would be as forgiving as she always has been. I'm nervous and I'm never nervous. I'm starting to wonder if maybe I've finally crossed the line when I took the letters. I knew that they would be personal, but still I took them anyway.

"Hey Sherlock," she said as I walked through the door, her back still to me, "I don't think I have anything for you today."

"Actually I came here to talk to you, and return something I took," I disclosed as I walked further into the room.

"What?" She spun around at my words probably very worried about what I could have taken.I hand over the box without another word.

"I wondered how long it would be before you found this," she confessed, as she took the box from my hands and cradled it against her chest.

"You knew I would find it?"

"With as much time as you spend in my flat I figured the probability of you finding it was high. Thank you for returning it. How many did you read?"

"All of them," I replied looking away.

"I see. What is it you wanted to talk about then?"

"I have something else for you, and then I'm hoping you might stop by Baker Street after your shift ends."

"Okay."

"I thought maybe this would be appropriate given the circumstances," I explained as I hand over the envelope I had tucked in my inside coat pocket, her name scrawled across the top.

"Thank you Sherlock," she said as she took the letter. I walk out of the morgue before she can say anything more.

 _Molly,_

 _I am not sure how I should go about explaining to you why I took the box of letters other than to say curiosity got the better of me. I wish I could tell you that even though I took the letters I did not read them, but I do not want to lie to you. I will admit that I was surprised by most of what you wrote. I know that I have taken advantage of you and your feelings over the years and I can say that I am ashamed of my actions. You deserve so much better than what I have ever given you._

 _You Molly, are a bit of a blind spot for me and I know I have a tendency not to see what is staring at me square in the face when it comes to your feelings. The reason for this blind spot is because you are the one person that I do not want to hurt and therefore you are somehow the person I hurt the most. I know that it does not make much sense, but it is the truth._

 _I do not like to admit that I have feelings like everybody else, but I do have them. You Molly Hooper are very special to me. I wanted to tell you when I came back to London that I came back for you. While I was gone for those two years dismantling Moriarty's network it was thoughts of you that kept me going. I know that I should have told you earlier, but you seemed so happy with Tom when I first came home, and then later I figured I screwed everything up between us._

 _How could I not think otherwise when I had even disappointed myself. I am self-destructive by nature and even though I thought I knew the consequences of my actions I guess I never really thought how they would affect those closest to me. Before the fall I never thought about others, but since coming home I wanted to be the person you always seemed to see in me. Yet somehow after John and Mary's wedding I felt alone and acted as such too. I am truly sorry for hurting you not only by turning back to drugs, but also my fake relationship with Janine, ending up in the hospital after being shot, and also murdering Charles Magnussen. I know from reading your letters that you have already forgiven me these grievances, but I feel I need to apologize for my actions just the same._

 _I must revisit now the earlier confession about having feelings and that I was coming home for you. During my two years away I learned that I am a sentimental person despite the fact that I have always claimed otherwise. See I missed you. I wanted often to talk to you. Not about anything in particular, but about everything and nothing at the same time. I don't know when it happened, and I didn't notice until the opportunity was taken away from me, but you found your way into my heart._

 _You Molly Hooper are the most important person in the world to me. I know that when I came back I told you that you were the person that mattered the most and that was as close to telling you I had fallen in love with you as I could get at the time. It wasn't because I was incapable of saying the words, but I didn't want to get in the way of the happiness you had found in my absence. Maybe if I had told you then we could have save both of us a bit of the pain we've been feeling recently._

 _I want you to know I am not trying to take the easy way out by telling you of my feelings in this letter, but am hoping that you will give me the honor of telling you in person as well when you come to see me after your shift is over this evening. I am hoping that just maybe you still feel the same. See even though I have read your letters I still doubt that you could see past all my wrong doings and love me still. Please prove me wrong._

 _Yours Always,_

 _Sherlock_

* * *

I could feel the knots that had found themselves in my stomach tighten when her light footsteps made their way up the stairs to my flat. Would she honor my wishes by letting me tell her of my lover, or should I be preparing myself to be slapped across the face once again? I didn't want to give myself too much hope, but at the same time I wanted nothing more than to finally have her find her way into my arms.

"Sherlock," she said softly as she entered the flat.

"Ah, Molly you're here," I said looking up to where she's standing by the door; the letter I wrote still in her hands.

"Do you really mean it?" she questioned, keeping her eyes trained on my own.

I walked over to her so that I was standing right in front of her. I ran my hands down her arms until I could take her hands after gently taking the letter from her and setting it aside. I know that even though I've already written down my affections for her to read I need to make her see that this is real. It's one thing for me to tell her I care and quite another to show her I mean every word.

"Yes, I meant every word. My heart is yours…that is if you still want it Molly."

"I'm waiting for specific words here Sherlock."

"I love you Molly Hooper."

The words were barely out of my mouth before she had her arms around me her lips pressed against mine. Her kiss was like solving a case, and not just any case, but a serial murder case. No, I'm wrong her kiss is better than any case I've ever have or ever will solve. The feel of her fingers sliding through my hair causes me to shiver and pull her closer. All too soon she's pulling away.

"I love you too," she whispered against my lips.

* * *

 _ **So on my list of things to do today were pack for trip this weekend and work on my two multi-chapter fics so I could post chapters before I leave on said trip. What did I do? I wrote two one chapter fics that I didn't even have planned. I hope that you enjoyed reading and will take the time to leave me a review. if you follow any of my multi-chapter fics I promise that I am still going to try posting before I leave this weekend...the laptop is coming with me too though.**_


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